


Hunt Smart

by patriciatepes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Mistaken Identity, Possession, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patriciatepes/pseuds/patriciatepes
Summary: Castiel is unavailable, and Claire isn't buying Dean's reason for it. Time for her to put some of those hunter skills to use. It's a shame, however, that there are still some hunts she's just not prepared for.





	Hunt Smart

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own SPN or any related characters. No money here.  
> Warnings: S11 spoilers! Super minor swearing, brief mentions of gore without being heavily described  
> Author's Notes: I hope my recipient likes this piece! I had so much fun writing it. She had so many great prompts, I wish I could have done them all, but in the end, I had to go with the one that I feel I could do the most justice to. Enjoy! (Additional Note 4/16) So, um, I forgot to cross post this after the reveal... oops. Little less than a year late. So sorry.)

Claire had been doing more than college-related studies. She _did_ want to go to college, of course. Knowledge was the greatest weapon. It took long enough, but she had that finally figured out. But she had other interests too. She considered this as making her "well-rounded." And while Jody and Alex weren't crazy about Claire's decision to keep on hunting, they were at least glad that she wasn't hunting dumb anymore.

So, in between exams and papers for her quote un-quote "real school," she was doing a different kind of studying as well. Next time she decided to get out there and hunt, she wanted to be prepared. That meant firearms training, monster knowledge, and fake ID manufacturing. That last one came with the college territory and she was actually bringing in a hefty amount of extra cash by doing it for those who weren't quite twenty-one yet. But that was Claire's personal secret, since Sheriff Jody would disapprove.

Sam wasn't exactly thrilled to have her hunting at all. Neither was Dean, really, but he took a different approach to it. Sam chose not to answer any hunting related question for Claire, while Dean took the "better safe than sorry" approach and answered each one fully. Claire had even started a sort-of training game with Dean. She called it, "Is This a Case?" She would send a link to Dean of an article of a strange death with only the question "Is this a case?" following the link. Dean would then quiz her about the article's details and they would "solve it" together. Claire was particularly proud of herself once when Sam and Dean had _actually_ followed one of her articles and solved it in reality.

Of course, she didn't just send the Winchesters texts and emails. She called them too. Sam, if she just wanted to catch up, or Dean if she wanted to catch up _and_ learn. She had even called Castiel once or twice when she had thought a case she had found might be angel related. That was rare, but it did happen.

Which was how she found out.

##

The phone rang on the other end. Again, and again, and again. Finally, a new take on a familiar voicemail—according to the stories from Sam and Dean, told with laughs—answered.

"I still don't understand why you need my name."

The gravel-like voice had once angered Claire. It represented all she had lost in her life. It reminded her of all her unanswered prayers that the too-guilty angel had ignored. But now, the voice was nothing but a side note, a detail about someone whom Claire had come to… well, Claire still wasn't sure how she felt about Castiel now. She didn't hate him, not anymore. But he sure as hell wasn't "oh, well now I _love_ my hardworking step-dad" material to her either. He was just… Castiel, an angel trying to fix all he had screwed up. Which was a long damn list.

Least he could do was answer the phone for the consequence of one of his screw-ups. Claire disconnected without leaving a message. Did he even know how to check them anyhow? Probably; she had just never left him any. She tossed her phone to the side, reaching out to lightly tap the keyboard of the small laptop that stood open in front of her. She was in her room at Jody's house, lying on her stomach on the bed, feet up in that air—to appease the "no shoes on the bed" rule of Jody's. She scrolled through the article she had found about a body that had appeared to have exploded in this nature trail that led off of this little park. Her promise to "hunt smart" rang in her head as she re-read the article one more time.

She had been reading the lore, and very little had the power to just explode a body. In fact, the only thing that popped to mind that could was angel. She _really_ wished she could get Castiel on the phone. She'd been studying on how to hunt tons of stuff: vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, ghouls, even damn wendigos. But all she could find on angels basically just told her that they were the hardest of all to kill. And you couldn't exorcise them, not like demons, because they _asked_ for permission to possess you. Which sounded messed up as all hell to Claire, despite having a parent having done so.

She tapped on the computer again, glancing over at the phone. She picked it up, dialing one more time for Castiel.

"Next is Dean," she murmured as the line started to ring.

It rang. And rang. And rang some more before the voicemail answered once more.

"Fine," she muttered, ending that call and calling up Dean.

The phone rang three times before Dean answered with a "Yeah?"

"Nice to talk to you too, Dean," Claire huffed.

"Hey, Claire. Keeping your nose clean?"

"Nobody uses that phrase, not really. You got that from a movie."

She could almost hear the eye rolling before he came back with, "What's up?"

"Yeah, um, I can't get a hold of Castiel. I have this case that totally sounds like angel trouble, and I thought he might know something about it. I've tried his cell like a million times, all voicemail. Is he there with you?"

Silence. Silence that lasted longer than a normal breath. Claire swung herself so that she was sitting on the edge of her bed (shoes still not on the bedding, Jody).

"Dean? Those cheeseburgers finally do you in?"

She waited for a laugh, or an unappreciative grunt, something, anything. But there was just more silence. If she listened real carefully, she thought she could hear the hunter breathing, which let her know that the line was still connected. After a surprisingly long time to just be sitting silently on a phone, Dean cleared his throat.

"Yeah, um. Cas is… he's kind of busy. We've got a lot on our plates right now, over here. So he's… out helping us out. Don't worry about it. And what case are you talking about?"

Claire arched a brow at the phone. "It's… well, this guy exploded in a park. Like, they found blood and chunks of him everywhere. Tiny chunks, by the sound of it. Witnesses say… or rather a witness says that she thought she saw him and another dark headed guy head into the nature trail earlier that day."

Another moment of silence, but this one didn't last quite as long.

"Probably nothing. We'll look into it over here."

"Dean, the guy is Chef Boyardee all over a park, and it's 'probably nothing'? What's going on? What's Castiel really doing?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Claire. Look, I gotta run. But… Cas is fine. I'll… let him know you're trying to get a hold of him the next time I see him."

The line disconnected without so much as a "bye." Claire pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at the now dark screen. Something was up. The Winchesters were keeping something from her.

"Time to test some skills," she said, turning back to the computer and loading up a search engine.

##

One of these skills she had half-way picked up not as a hunter, but as a delinquent teen. One of her more tech-savvy, fellow delinquent boyfriends had showed her once how easy it was to hack someone's phone's GPS. She had never tried it herself, but she had locked that little bit of info away, just in case.

Well, turns out, she was really freakin' good at it. She had told Jody that she was going to a preview day at some out of state college, took her vehicle, and what money Jody thrust at her for "just in case." She had tried to turn it down. But since she couldn't explain that she actually had plenty of cash without revealing the source of it, she took it, and just resolved not to spend any of it. Jody had tried to convince her to take Alex with her, since it was "so far" to go. But Claire had explained that it was a good learning opportunity, how to be by herself without resorting to petty crime and juvenile antics. Jody had then tossed some more money her way, for hotels, since she was driving "all the way to Massachusetts."

Again, Claire had more than enough. And Jody might have been sheriff, but Claire knew that she didn't make quite enough to make up for the loss of what she was handing over. So, that cash was stashed separately in her car, and Claire finally headed off to Massachusetts.

It was a long trip to make by yourself, sure. But she did it in just a few days, stopping only when she feared she was about to fall asleep at the wheel. But she was here now, in the town of Fall River, using the GPS signal from Castiel's phone as a guide. It had led her to the gates of an abandoned asylum, which had brought the Winchesters' "hunt smart" advice ringing in her ears. So, she went back into the town, waiting for the signal to move. The popped into a local diner, ordering a coffee, and asked if the waitress minded if she plugged up her phone somewhere. She chatted about local hotels and such, all the while keeping an eye on her phone (which the older, motherly waitress had kindly let her run her charger cord over the counter near the booth Claire sat in). She was there for hours, occasionally ordering something just to appease the staff. The sun was setting, and the waitress (Cheryl, according to the little gold tag) approached Claire one last time. Her large, beige bag was slung over one shoulder, as she gazed down at Claire and her phone.

"Are you… waiting for someone, hun?"

The GPS map was clearly visible on her phone. So, Claire used yet another skill learned as a delinquent. She stuck out her lip, just enough for a small pout, and said, "Yeah… my dad. He's… been gone for a while. I think I've found him. I just… gotta work up the courage, you know?"

This caused the woman to slide into the booth, sitting opposite Claire, and comfort her for a solid five minutes. It was full dark outside now, and the damn dot showing the location of Castiel's phone finally moved. Claire sucked up the fake tears she was working on, thanked the woman, tossed down a tip, and rushed out of the diner.

By the time Claire was in her vehicle, the dot had gone from the old asylum to some place right in town in a blink. Dean had caught Claire up about the angels' fall and what that had meant. They couldn't fly anymore, or teleport as it looked to humans. How the hell had Castiel moved that fast? She had no time to lose.

She pealed out of the parking lot, following the roads on the maps until she finally found herself at the very same park she had read about in the article. Was Castiel investigating the case she had found? Had Dean talked to him and passed it on, or was she the one late to the party on this one? But she could clearly see him now, overcoat and all, standing in the very center of the park, just staring up at the night sky. Grabbing her bag and shoving her phone inside, she hopped out of her vehicle, making a beeline for the angel. She was only a few feet away when she decided to call his name.

"Castiel!"

He turned his head, brow arched. She was now about five feet away when something in her head screamed at her to stop. Castiel turned toward her fully now, arms crossed. He smiled. But it was all…

Wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

"I… I've been trying to call you," she said.

"Oh? Really?" he replied.

His voice was wrong. It was… the one she had used when she had had him pretend to be her father. It had none of its usual roughness to it at all. What was going on here? Where was Castiel?

"Um… yeah," she said, slowly reaching for her bag.

She had no idea what she was up against (so much for hunting smart). But she figured that any weapon was better than no weapon. Whatever this was, this Non-Castiel, maybe she could at least slow it down while she ran off.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," he said.

With a flick of his hand, Claire's bag flew off her shoulder and across the park, back toward her truck.

That dream, where you go to school or work or whatever naked. That's what this felt like, standing before this unknown monster that was wearing a friend's face with absolutely no weaponry of any kind. _Exactly_ what this felt like.

"Hunting dumb," Claire murmured.

Non-Castiel smirked. "What's your name? Do I know you?"

Claire huffed out a little laugh, hoping to buy some time while playing it cool. "Funny. I was gonna ask you the same thing."

He wagged a finger at her, chuckling. "Now, now. You're the little pixie that interrupted my 'me time.' Don't be rude, mud monkey."

Claire's eyes narrowed. "What? Are you… still an angel?"

"Name!" the Non-Castiel demanded.

"Claire. My name is Claire. Now, what's yours?"

He grinned, way too brightly.

"Lucifer. Now, see? Isn't that better?"

All color drained from her face. Claire might have been still trying to piece together the whole picture from the time her father accepted Castiel into his body, but she knew the basics. Plus, being the religious man that Jimmy Novak had been, she had spent a lot of time in Sunday School. Revelations. The Apocalypse. _Lucifer_. She was, literally, staring into the face of the devil himself. And now, that face was laughing at her.

"Ah, so you've heard of me?"

She forgot words. For just a second, Claire forgot everything she had ever known, safe for the fact that she was standing, in the park, at night, with Lucifer himself.

"Don't be shy all of a sudden. You approached me. Or… was it Castiel you thought you were looking for? I could understand the confusion. We _do_ share some similar facial features."

And Lucifer thought he was a comedian. Great. Claire swallowed, hard. She was still weaponless. And running was just completely not an option. So she went with Plan C. Talk.

"Why? Why are you… is Castiel even in there?"

"Of course. Who else was gonna give me permission? The original owner of this meatsuit is long gone. Now, why exactly is a barely legal blonde looking for dear, sweet, well-meaning Castiel?"

"I—"

What exactly was she going to say? She suspected angels of having killed a guy here? What if Lucifer had been involved? What if _he_ was the one who killed that guy? She stared a Lucifer, who seemed to be waiting patiently for her answer.

"I was just… looking for Castiel. To ask him something. That's all."

"Ask him about what, Claire, was it? Maybe I could hel—"

He paused, his head titling to the right just a bit, as if he had some water stuck in his ear. His eyes shifted back and forth, and it was like he was listening to something Claire just couldn't hear. Which, she supposed, was possible. She had a decision before her now. Run, or wait it out. Lucifer was clearly distracted, so making a run for it was open to her. But… for how long would he be distracted?

That answer came in a matter of seconds as Lucifer directed a stone-cold smile at her. He tapped his head, then pointed at her.

"Cas is just going ballistic in there. Says for me not to harm you. Is begging it, actually. So… you're Claire Novak, this vessel's daughter. That's interesting… Ol' Cas, always with the guilty feelings. He destroyed your family, and now… what? You two are bestest buds?"

"Not exactly… just… friendly-ish. He… he means well, like you said," Claire answered, probably the most honest answer she had ever given in years.

"Ah, so, you came to ask Castiel—yes, yes! Gosh, is he loud in there. So desperate for me not to hurt you. He's usually more of a couch potato, watching his shows. Anyway, so you came here to ask him for help? What did little Claire need help with?"

Lucifer advanced a single step toward here, and, on instinct, Claire retreated one step back.

"It's nothing. Forget it," she said.

"Ah, come on now. Let Uncle Lucifer help you. What is the problem? Don't you trust me?"

He was walking closer to her now, and Claire continued to slowly back away. After a handful of advanced steps, he stopped, grinning.

"You're being very rude. You gotta think: WWCS?"

Claire narrowed a confused gaze at him. He laughed, explaining, "What would Castiel say?"

She was as stuck as ever. Her truck was no closer, despite her small retreats, and neither was her bag. It was time for a Hail Mary move.

"Look, how about I just go? No harm, no foul. I'll just leave, and we'll forget all about this, okay?"

The Winchesters' voices danced in her brain: hunt smart, hunt smart, hunt smart. Claire didn't like running. She swore that she wasn't going to do that, ever again. Not from Jody, and especially not from a fight. But angels… especially Lucifer himself, was a different story. The one thing that could help her, an angel blade, she didn't have. After all, Sam and Dean didn't want to encourage her hunting… It was sort of like the sex talk. Nobody wants you to run out and have sex as soon as you're interested in it, but they'd rather you be safe than sorry since you're going to do it anyway. It was a shame that the Winchesters hadn't thought ahead enough to "angel blade for Claire," though.

"Really? You want to leave? I thought we were just getting started," Lucifer laughed.

No time like the present. Claire whirled on her heels, aiming for her bag, then the truck, when an unseen force sent her flying feet over head in that direction anyway. She landed hard a little less than an arm's length away from her bag, coughing and gasping alternatively for the air that had been knocked out of her. When she stopped seeing stars, she looked up to see Lucifer looming over her.

"Shit," she muttered.

The devil himself reached for her… and then stopped. Actually, it looked more like he was still trying to reach down to grab her, but something was holding him back.

"No," he muttered. "No!"

But a second later, he doubled over, hitting his knees on the ground. When his face looked back to Claire's, she just knew. It was Castiel who spoke to her now.

"You have to go. Run, now. I'm barely holding him back," his familiar gravel tones struggled. Each word seemed to be a fight.

"No… you have to get rid of him. What if… what if I need hunting advice that Sam and Dean won't give me? Cast him out!"

"No! He's… necessary. Claire… I'll always be there to aid you. But now, you don't… you don't need me. You need… to run! Now!"

She wanted to argue. To remind him how her prayers, locked away in juvie, had gone unanswered. To remind him that he had sought her out, not the other way around, once she had stopped praying. But his blue eyes pleaded with her… the eyes of her father, and she nodded. She grabbed up her bag, jumped into her truck, and sped out of there like the hounds of hell were on her ass.

##

"You could have told me," Claire said, accusingly, over the phone.

Dean sighed. "I was afraid you'd go after him. Try to save him or some crap."

"I'm trying to take your advice. You know? Don't be a dumbass? Well, I'm not. I've learned my lesson here, cue audience going "aww" with a sweet violin music in the background. But you didn't give me all the info, and I almost died."

"Hey! I'm not the one that hacked Cas's damn phone, now am I? If you had just listened, and left well enough alone, that wouldn't have happened. It's not my fault."

Claire huffed. "Don't worry. I won't go near Casifer again. Scout's honor. But you better get that dumbass angel back, right? Castiel… he doesn't deserve Lucifer."

"I know, kid. Look, I'll go along with your 'college trip' story to Jody, all right? Because you know she's gonna ask. I'll get Sam on board too. As long as you swear that you mean it, that you'll leave Lucifer alone. We've got this, okay?"

"I swear. But you better have it, Dean. Or I'll kick your ass."

Dean laughed. "Sure. Later."

The line disconnected, leaving Claire sitting on the bed in a deafening silence for just a moment. Her thoughts were consumed by angels, Castiel, Lucifer, and whatever the hell the Winchesters might be up against now. If Castiel said yes to Lucifer, then it had to be bad.

"You don't need me." That's what Castiel had said. She cast a sideways glance over to her lore books and laptop. Sucking on her bottom lip for just a second, she pushed out a breath.

"You're right. I'll do just fine on my own," she said, opening a search engine on her computer.

She smiled as she searched for "most haunted U.S. colleges." After all, she could multitask just fine.


End file.
